


In Saturnalia Tradition

by greenmage128



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1930s, Christmas Fluff, Did I mention this was fluff?, Fluff, Ice Skating, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmage128/pseuds/greenmage128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel didn't plan on having his meeting with Crowley coincide with the opening of the ice skating rink at Rockefeller Center, but he knows an opportunity when he sees one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Saturnalia Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an imagine on Tumblr, and as I reblogged the post (which, despite all my tagging, I cannot find), this popped into my head. So have some Growley Christmas fluff in August. Yay!

Gabriel landed on top of the massive Christmas tree at the center of the plaza, a fitting place for him to be on December 25, though the lacked the requisite harp and robe for the job. He was early for his appointment, so he made himself comfortable there, watching humans make fools of themselves on the newly-opened ice rink below. Every once in a while one or two in particular that caught his eye, usually a fumbling child or a too-boisterous teenager, and applied a touch of magic as appropriate to pass the time.

Sunset came and went, taking most of the crowd with it. It wasn’t until well past ten that the plaza cleared out, and Gabriel fluttered down to the middle of the rink. The clock struck midnight, and still the archangel was alone. Where the hell was he?

He considered the possibility that Crowley wouldn’t show, but they’d agreed. He’d even made him promise he would come, granted he was joking, but the demon didn’t change his answer. That meant he would arrive unless he was dead or worse, and that thought didn’t make Gabriel worry. No, not at all.

The chimes of the clock ceased, and there was a shift in the air behind him. A faint whiff of cologne, scotch, and sulfur hit his nose, and Gabriel turned to see Crowley smirking at him. He was wearing a new meatsuit, this one a bit shorter than his last with brown-green eyes and thinning dark brown hair, and the expression looked good on him.

“Hello, darling,” the demon said, voice deep as always, but the accent was a first, and Gabriel couldn’t stop his raised eyebrow at the sound of it.

“Nice suit. British?”

Crowley nodded. “London-born local publisher. Picked him up on the way over, before the hounds ruined him.”

“Oh you didn’t have to make all that effort for me, cupcake,” Gabriel said, sweetening his tone just a touch too much, one of his favorite ways of riling up the demon.

To his surprise, Crowley didn’t so much as blink. “The old one was feeling a bit ragged. Couldn’t show up to a holiday get-together in that ratty old thing, could I?”

Gabriel found himself smiling. “Well don’t I feel under-dressed?” He snapped his fingers, and a pair of ice skates appeared on both their feet. “This should even things up a bit.”

The demon glanced down and gave him a look. “You’re kidding.”

“C’mon, Crowles. It’s Christmas. Skate with me.” Gabriel did his best puppy-dog eyes to sell his point.

“Not Christmas,” Crowley said, pointing at the clock tower, which read 12:02. “And Christ wasn’t even born in this month. You know that better than anyone.”

Did the asshole always have to be right? Gabriel crossed his arms and tried not to glare. “It’s still Christmas elsewhere in the world. And fine, in the spirit of Saturnalia, you grump, skate with me. Happy?”

“Prat.” Crowley shuffled forward, all awkward and unwieldy like a fawn learning to walk.

The archangel grinned. “You love it.” Gabriel followed him, extending one of his wings to wrap around Crowley to help him along.

“Angel,” Crowley said, pushing back with a touch of his own powers, just enough to escape the influence of Gabriel’s Grace. “I know how to skate.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Crowley glowered and hit him with another wave of telekinesis. The ice must’ve thrown a monkey wrench in his calculations though, because they both went flying backwards from the force this time.

Gabriel barely avoided hitting the ice, his wings working to maintain his balance, and he even managed to squeeze in a nice little twirl before landing back on his feet. Crowley wasn’t so lucky. 

By the time Gabriel had gotten himself turned around, the demon was flat on his back, limbs splayed out like he was about to make a snow angel, as ridiculous as that would’ve been. Gabriel was careful in his approach. 

“Are you dead?”

“Bugger off.”

He stopped just out of swatting range and bent to look at Crowley. The demon was glaring up at the sky, making a point of not so much as acknowledging Gabriel, indignation rolling off him in waves. 

“You want some help?” he asked, offering a hand. 

It took Crowley a full minute to calm down to the point of being able to give a coherent answer. Gabriel just stood there, waiting, patient as could be, with one hand extended, though his arm was starting to get tired. “I have conditions.” 

Gabriel had to bite down on his smirk. “All right. Let’s make a deal then.” 

“There will be no mocking and no further attempts to help,” Crowley said, pointing at him but still avoiding his eyes. “Understood?” 

“If I promise one, I can’t promise the other, Crowles.”

“Gabriel.”

“Okay. No mocking, and you can flail all you like, and I won’t interfere.” The archangel couldn’t hold back his smile now. The fact that he’d actually missed bickering with a demon should’ve disturbed him, but when did Gabriel ever do things the normal way? “Can we skate now?” 

“Yes.” Crowley finally turned to him and then grabbed his hand. Gabriel was about to pull him up, when Crowley tugged on his arm. Hard. 

This time Gabriel did lose his balance, falling face-first to the ice. Half of him sprawled out over Crowley, the other half curled up at an awkward angle into himself, trying to make as little contact with the freezing surface as possible.

“I suppose that was called for,” Gabriel said, voice muffled by Crowley’s coat.

There was a laugh in the demon’s voice as he replied. “I’m surprised you didn’t see it coming.”

“You’re right, I should’ve.” Gabriel hauled himself to his elbows, staring up at Crowley. The bastard was grinning now, and the fall was a price he was willing to pay to see that. “You did learn from the best.”

Crowley nodded, his head falling back to the ice. “Lilith did teach me quite a bit before letting me loose on these poor sods.”

The archangel smacked him in the stomach for that, though he limited himself to human-level strength. “Asshole.”

“Demon,” Crowley said with a smirk. He took hold of Gabriel’s hand and pulled him closer, so that the archangel’s body covered his. “Y’know, I’m starting to like this better.”

“Can’t say I’m objecting.” Gabriel wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck, hands pillowing his head. Laying like this, the cold seeped into his knees, and while it didn’t hurt, the frigidity grated against the fire of his Grace. “Though if you wanted to snuggle, I can think of a hundred better places to do it.”

Beneath him Crowley raised an eyebrow. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.” Hands snaked down his sides to his hips, and suddenly Gabriel was afflicted with a different kind of chill. “Though given the holiday, I’m willing to make an exception.”

Gabriel squirmed up a bit to rest his forehead against Crowley’s, in no way trying to invoke a bit of friction in the process, oh no, never. “Hey, snuggling is a Saturnalia tradition. Ask the Romans. I’m sure there’s a few lying around Hell.”

Crowley smiled, and Gabriel knew that smile, the one that meant he was winning the demon over with his ridiculousness in spite of his better judgment, and that thought alone had him mirroring the expression. “I’ll take your word for it, darling.”

And then there was a hand on Gabriel’s neck, in his hair, and they must’ve looked like something off a greeting card by now. Well, they would’ve, if someone hadn’t decided to shine a light in their faces at that exact moment.

“Hey! Rink’s closed!”

“Damn it.” Gabriel sighed, going boneless against Crowley. “Got to love the NYPD.”

The demon glanced toward the human. “Want me to take care of him?”

While he considered it, the light shifted, moving down their bodies before returning to glaring in their faces.

“I don’t care if you freeze your queer asses off elsewhere, but you can’t do it here! Now move!”

“Sadly, he’s a good one, Crowles. Well, as good as we’re gonna get around here,” Gabriel said, frowning a little. A touch of mayhem was just what this evening needed too.

Crowley seemed to read his mind, per usual. “I say he still requires an adjustment.”

Well that was true, and Gabriel’s frown turned right upside down. He pressed his lips to Crowley’s in a satisfying kiss, flipped the officer the bird, and then snapped them out of the plaza without bothering to hide their exit. With any luck, the locals would be talking about magical Christmas queers for decades to come.


End file.
